Potoooooooo
Contributor
http://modernfarmer.com/2014/04/cap...piece-agriculture-somewhat-disturbing-luxury/
In 1913, farmer George Beuoy published a pamphlet titled “What’s a Capon and Why.” He believed that the castrated cockerels — which, without their testosterone, plump up to anywhere from 7 to 12 pounds — could change the face of the struggling poultry industry. He believed in the possibility of capons so strongly that he began calling himself the “Capon King” as he marketed mail-order cockerel and home castrating kits.
Capons fetched four times the price per pound of a typical chicken, he wrote. They had value before slaughter, too: Capons would mother chicks better than hens while still retaining enough of a rooster’s fierceness to fight off hawks. If only farmers had the patience to learn “caponizing,” this particular form of castration, and let the birds grow long enough to develop their tender, distinctive flavor, capons would become “the life-giving, brain-forming, strength-producing food that is required by the high strung workingman of modern times,” Beuoy wrote.
Obviously, he was wrong.
Today, the capon has nearly disappeared from view. When capons pop up in stores or on restaurant menus, most modern diners assume that they’re game birds or perhaps akin to Cornish hens. But because hormonal changes caused by caponization allow more fat to build up both below the skin and within muscle, capons come with the promise of a substantial amount of buttery, tender meat. So why are they gone?
It comes down to fact that the method to make a capon a capon is still the same as it was when Beuoys wrote – a process that may be an unfairly forgotten piece of agriculture, or simply a means to a somewhat disturbing luxury good.
In 1913, farmer George Beuoy published a pamphlet titled “What’s a Capon and Why.” He believed that the castrated cockerels — which, without their testosterone, plump up to anywhere from 7 to 12 pounds — could change the face of the struggling poultry industry. He believed in the possibility of capons so strongly that he began calling himself the “Capon King” as he marketed mail-order cockerel and home castrating kits.
Capons fetched four times the price per pound of a typical chicken, he wrote. They had value before slaughter, too: Capons would mother chicks better than hens while still retaining enough of a rooster’s fierceness to fight off hawks. If only farmers had the patience to learn “caponizing,” this particular form of castration, and let the birds grow long enough to develop their tender, distinctive flavor, capons would become “the life-giving, brain-forming, strength-producing food that is required by the high strung workingman of modern times,” Beuoy wrote.
Obviously, he was wrong.
Today, the capon has nearly disappeared from view. When capons pop up in stores or on restaurant menus, most modern diners assume that they’re game birds or perhaps akin to Cornish hens. But because hormonal changes caused by caponization allow more fat to build up both below the skin and within muscle, capons come with the promise of a substantial amount of buttery, tender meat. So why are they gone?
It comes down to fact that the method to make a capon a capon is still the same as it was when Beuoys wrote – a process that may be an unfairly forgotten piece of agriculture, or simply a means to a somewhat disturbing luxury good.
